Poor Unfortunate Soul
by KartheyM
Summary: Undersea: Ariel has always wanted to be human. Maybe then she could be more than just her father's songbird. Saving the Prince might help-but without her voice, is it enough to win his heart? Storybrooke: Hilary wants to prove to her father that her musical talent is profitable. When her family might be forced to leave, an opportunity knocks; but is it enough to save them?
1. Chapter 1: Fathoms Below

_*A/N: Ever wonder how exactly Rumplestiltskin acquired the magic ink for the scroll? What about the existence of a place called "Marine Garage"? Not exactly subtle isn't it? Rather than waiting for the official OUAT writers, I decided to write my own version of how such an introductory episode would have gone, had it occurred in Season 1, right about the time of the Hansel and Gretel episode (say, just before it, so August/Pinocchio hasn't shown up yet, but Emma is Sheriff)__ Enjoy! :) -KM  
_

Part 1  
**Enchanted Forest**

"Ariel! Ariel! Where is she?"

Triton, King of Undersea, was very annoyed, which interfered with his mood. Such a thing should not happen, that the King should be inconvenienced. In all of his kingdom, the subjects loved him, so their every motive was to ensure that nothing they said or did ever perturbed him in the least.  
Was it too much to ask of his own daughter?

"Your Highness!" Two of the Mer-guards swam into the court, trailing the young dreamer with the bright-red hair.

"Ariel!" Triton swam over as the guards deposited the mermaid before her father. "Where have you been? The others are waiting for you! It is not becoming of the princess to leave people waiting while she dawdles! Well? What have you to say for yourself? What could possibly be more important than your own father? Why do you insist on running off all the time? Where do you go?"

Ariel gave a careless flip of her tail as her long, ruby-red hair floated around her head.

"Nowhere," she muttered. She never told her father that she would spend most of her time near the surface, where she could watch the climbing towers and flickering colors of the kingdom of Overcliff. Ariel could not fathom being able to go on and on upward. The water had a surface to it, beyond which no merperson could survive. Around and above the human world, however, there was only air. Air from the ground all the way up as far as the eye could see. Air, and more air. No surface to hold them back.

More than anything, Ariel dreamed of flying. Surely with nothing stopping the humans from moving upward, they had discovered ways of floating through the sky in the same way Ariel and the other merfolk floated high above the ocean floor. If she were human, that is precisely what she would do.

Triton was not satisfied with her answer, but years of arguing and coercion told him that nothing could induce his daughter to answer when she did not want to. He huffed moodily. The gills in his throat flapped open and closed. He pointed to the Great Hall.

"They are ready for you, my dear," his voice grew soft, and silky, as it always did when he made an offer she had no choice of refusing. "Go on in."

"Daddy!" Ariel begged, swimming forward so her hair streamed back off her face, "Why would you do this? What if I didn't want to? What if you tried persuading them yourself?"

Triton raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his thick white beard flowing down over his smooth, scaly chest. "You know better than anyone how well that works."

Now it was Ariel's turn to huff. The tiny pop made by her snapping gills was clearly audible. "A normal king would not allow a young maid to participate in matters of state."

"A normal maid does not have a gift like yours, daughter," Triton reminded her. "Why would you not use it to aid your kingdom?"

"_You_ are not the whole kingdom, father!" Ariel snapped back, and she swam through the thick seaweed into the Hall before he could respond.

In the Great Hall, dignitaries from all four corners of the Sea gathered to meet with King Triton of Undersea. They straightened out of respect when the Princess entered. The King came in behind her.

"Merpeople of the Sea!" he greeted them. "My daughter, the Princess Ariel, you know is the most wonderful Voice of the Ocean. A wise Fairy blessed her with the gift of song when she was born. I have asked that she sing for you now, as a special welcome to Undersea." He nudged the reluctant girl. "Go ahead."

Ariel cleared the frown from her face as she drew herself up to her full length, all seven feet. She tilted her head back as light from the Sun shone down through a gap in the coral walls of the palace and illuminated her figure. She opened her mouth and began to sing. The haunting melody captivated her audience. When she finished, they remained with their eyes glued to her, mesmerized by her song. Triton nodded and she left as he came into the beam of sunlight. Now all attention was focused on him.

"Men of the Sea," he cried, "are you ready to hear me?"

As one, they answered him, "We will listen to what you have to say."

Triton smiled, "Then let the Royal Council begin."

The kingdom of Overcliff was separated from the mainland by a wide channel, frequently patrolled by the Overcliff armada. Across the channel stood the castle from which Queen Regina ruled. Lately, her kingdom had increased and grown stronger. With a nation like that on the mainland, any enemies would necessarily have to go through her to get to Overcliff. The existence of an armada, then, was almost superfluous. Then also, there was the matter of the kingdom's failing strength.

It could be said that King Theodore was not the same man since his wife passed away, leaving him to raise their son Eric on his own.

As the king retreated more and more into his courts and libraries, the kingdom seemed to dwindle as well. Not many people crossed the Channel to conduct any sort of business, and only every so often a guild or family would boat across, but mostly Overcliff kept to itself.

Prince Eric found much to occupy his time: hunting trips in the forest of Overcliff (which Queen Regina was kind enough to keep supplied with creatures to breed and populate the island), and boating across the Channel.

On this particular afternoon, he and three friends were taking their last jaunt. Eric knew that Queen Regina and his father were discussing the possibility of letting Regina's kingdom extend across the whole channel, so that the King would rule over only the island itself, and the armada could either be dissolved or the sailors had the option of becoming subjects of the Queen.

Eric would miss boating, but he believed as his father told him, that such a deal would only benefit Overcliff, as there was a small monetary repayment involved, plus added protection from the Queen's robust armada, since the two nations would be allies as a result of the pact.

"Watch her luff!" Eric called to his friend Smith. "Take in the port side so we can tack!"

Once the maneuver was completed, Eric called to drop the sail and let the boat drift with the current. Eric, Smith, Kyle, and Mark relaxed on the boat, listening to the gentle lapping of the waves and the wind hissing through the rocks.

"This is the life," Eric sighed.

"I wonder why everyone doesn't take a boat out more often," Kyle mused, gazing down into the murky depths. "Overcliff being so small. Father says it used to be that everyone owned a boat."

"What happened?" Mark asked as Eric closed his eyes to listen to the wind.

"I'll tell you what happened," Smith—the poorest in the group, whom Eric included in his activities to lend himself an air of benevolence—burst out bitterly. "It became more important to have fires in the winter than pleasure in the summer."

His words hung in the air as the other two courtiers glanced at each other.

"Too bad they didn't think about buying wood in town, or getting a permit to pick up deadwood in the forest," Eric muttered from beneath his hat. "But then again, all the more peace and quiet for us!" He laughed, but the others didn't join in.

Eric felt splashes of water on his arm.

"Hey!" he lifted his hat, "What's the big idea?"

Smith looked up, "It wasn't us."

"Uhh—" Kyle happened to glance over his shoulder and remained transfixed by what he saw. "Guys?"

Eric turned around. Behind him, where once there was clear sky and sun, an enormous dark cloud billowed and blotted out the light. With a mighty peal of thunder, the storm closed over the group.

"_ROW!_" Eric screamed, but it was already too late. The water churned and the secluded channel became a narrow death trap. The rain blinded the four friends, and the movement of the waves disoriented them. The full fury of nature seemed directed toward the young prince and his friends.

"Hold on!" Eric called, whether or not the others could hear him. Just then, the boat gave a furious buck and he forgot his own advice and went sailing into the air. He landed in the water, but he could not fight his way to the service, no matter how hard he flailed. The lack of air made his strength give out, and he could only watch as the undersea cliffs of his home rose past him. Movement caught his fading vision, and Eric could have sworn he caught the face of a terrified woman before the darkness closed around him...


	2. Chapter 2: Sing Sweet Nightengale

Part 2  
**Storybrooke**

Emma Swann pulled into the yard of Marine Garage, Storybrooke's combination service and gas station and fish market. A strange combination, to be sure, but the Garage's situation near the edge of town, with the front end easily accesible from the main road and the back end (where they operated their fish business) within sight of the docks, it was perfectly adequate.

No one came right away; there were several customers already, keeping the likes of Mike Tillman and his son Nick running back and forth and towing cars.

Emma didn't mind the wait; it gave her time to think.

Her son, Henry, had been legally adopted by the mayor of this strange little town, Regina Mills. Henry had come all the way to Boston to bring Emma to Storybrooke, and since her arrival Fate seemed to take pleasure in defying every attempt to leave, instead giving her more and more reasons to stay: first Henry, then various emergencies..._And now I'm the Sheriff_, Emma thought to herself.

It might be bearable, she decided not long ago, if everyone did not seem to be hiding something sinister that they were themselves not even aware of—and if Henry would stop insisting that they were all fairy-tale characters under a terrible curse that made them normal people. Apparently, this made Regina the Evil Witch Queen from so many of those stories; Emma smirked to herself. I'd believe it, she thought. For some reason, Mayor Mills seemed to have it in for her since she first returned with Henry; initially, Emma assumed it was jealousy because she was Henry's biological mother, and Regina was just the step-mom, but recently Emma had been picking up vibes of something deeper, something much more ominous. This whole town was just too creepy!

She jerked at a knock on her window.  
"G'morning, Sheriff," Trenton Anderson greeted her as she opened it. "What can we do for you?"

Emma smiled, "Just the basics today, Trenton."

He nodded and eyed the cars pulling in behind her. "All right, I'll get you going right away. Hilary!" He turned back to the garage and hollered. When he received no reply, he cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, "HILARY!" He shook his head. "Where is that girl?"

She emerged, red hair pulled back into a ponytail, sleeves and front slightly damp from loading the freezers with fresh-caught fish.

"Coming, Dad!" she called when they saw each other.

Trenton was already greeting the next customer.

Emma smiled as Hilary approached her window. "Hi, Sheriff Swann. Basic tunes today?"

Emma nodded, "Yes; and, please, it's Emma."

Hilary froze with the gas nozzle still in her hand. She looked very embarrassed. "I'm sorry," she whimpered.

Emma laughed it off, "Don't worry; I'm not offended."

Hilary nodded and went about her duties. "Pop the hood?" she asked Emma. Methodically, she checked fluid levels and belt conditions. "Looks like your oil could use a top-off," she remarked, moving to the station between the gas pumps where extra oil cans and funnels were kept.

Emma, sitting in her car, heard soft strains of a singer's voice singing a familiar song. Her hand instinctively went for the ignition; had she left the car on? The keys rested on the passenger seat, like normal. Where was the music coming from?

As Hilary closed the hood and moved to the gas nozzle, Emma realized that the stunning voice was hers. Hilary was singing as she worked.

"Wow," she remarked.

Hilary stopped and looked up. "What?"

Emma grinned, "You have an amazing voice!"

Hilary blushed. "Thank you," she mumbled.

"I heard your dad saying the other day that you are getting ready to graduate high school. Are you looking at music schools for college options?"

Hilary removed the nozzle and replaced the cap on the gas tank. She shrugged, "Well, I've been saving for Julliard ever since I started earning money."

"Yeah? How's that going?"

Hilary glanced toward the garage, where everyone was working as hard as they could. Only she could see the losing battle they fought with each dollar they brought in.

"Still saving," she told Emma.

"How's the fishing these days?" Emma asked as Hilary began cleaning her windshield and bug-laden front grill.

Hilary grimaced at the sight of two huge dragonflies caught in the bumper. "Not well," she lowered her voice and moved closer to Emma. "I worry about Dad sometimes; he started the Garage to supplement the small income he got from the real family business, the fishing. Lately, though, the garage just keeps sucking more money, and the fishing just isn't what it used to be."

"Bad season?" Emma asked with a frown.

"You could say that," Hilary gave the windshield a good rub-down. "Frankly, though, I think it's because of the commercial trawlers."

"So close to shore? I thought the Storybrooke marine borders extended further than that."

"The Mayor authorized the issue of a permit allowing them to move the buoys," Hilary explained. "Their lines get snagged with ours, and when they're separated, their nets are whole, and ours are in tatters. They go in during our peak Garage hours and sweep up all the fish before we can get the boats back in the water. The other fishermen here all have supplemental jobs that end up paying for the higher fees and extra permits that keep cropping up, leaving less and less for us to survive on." She stopped and rubbed a hand over her forehead. "I'm sorry; I'm talking too much."

"Hilary!" Emma's face as well as her voice was filled with concern. "You said exactly what you meant. I can go to the mayor about—"

"No!" Hilary clutched Emma's arm. "Please! All we want is to be left alone; we don't want any more trouble than we already have. The best we can hope for is to hope it all blows over eventually."

Emma laid a hand on the cold, white one clutching her arm. "We? What about you, Hilary? What about Julliard?"

Hilary set her chin. "I'll find a way, Emma. I don't know when, I don't know how, but watch and you'll see: Someday I'm going to leave this dull and dreary world behind and fly away to a better place!"

Emma took one look at that resolute face, and any doubts she had for the young woman's capacity to do all she said disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3: A Seaworthy Bargain

**Enchanted Forest**

Prince Eric sat at the window again, overlooking the Channel. From his room he could see the rock on which one of his father's ships discovered him. His three friends were dead. How had he been the only survivor?  
His father—once he had gotten over his worry for his son's survival—had questioned him closely about how he had ended up there.

"Am I to understand," King Theodore said, when Eric had told everything he knew, "That you lost consciousness while sinking in the water, and then somehow miraculously floated back to the surface to be washed up onto the rock where we found you? When every other man in the boat was dashed against the rocks and perished?"

Eric knew how improbable it might sound, but how could he convince his father that this was the unvarnished truth? "Yes, you may understand that," Eric replied, "If you refuse to hear the part where I describe the pale girl with the streaming hair who was in the act of swimming toward me when I blacked out."

"Ah yes," King Theodore retorted, "the deep-sea woman; tell me again! What did her eyes look like?"

"Like pale-green sea glass," Eric's voice softened as he spoke of it.

"And her hair?"

Eric frowned, "Some strange color; I couldn't tell because it was all behind her and my vision darkened. I would know it if I saw it again."

"And her face?"

Eric wistfully began staring at the Channel again. "She was terrified," he whispered.

"That Channel is too dangerous for any subject of mine," King Theodore stated. "It is good that we need no longer worry about patrolling it any longer. Queen Regina will be coming tomorrow, and we will have an agreement signed by the following day. No more boating accidents, no more watching the waters and waiting for an invasion, and we have the goodwill and protection of the Queen!"

"Father," Eric stood and faced the king, "please don't do this! When I was on that rock, I was in full view of the naval garrison of Queen Regina's knights, and not one of them answered my cries for help. Turning the Channel over to her would be a grave mistake!"

"Since when are you so concerned about the affairs of this country?" King Theodore stormed. "I stand by my own decision, and I believe it would be best for both our kingdoms. You can just forget about any more boating jaunts; and if your girl is still out there—if she is not a hallucination—she can bear the consequences for trespassing herself!" King Theodore swept out of the room.

Eric threw himself on the chair at the window again. Would he ever find the girl who saved his life, or did she exist only in his mind and heart?

Deep below the waters of the Channel, in a secret grotto within the cliffs below the royal palace, Ariel was dreaming again; this time, she was not dreaming about herself.

She had saved someone; she, Ariel, had actually been there to aid someone in continuing to live when they had lost all hope. She thought about his clear, searching eyes, begging to be saved; his dark, thick hair framing his face, contrasting in the water. His lips—Ariel licked her own. She had given him breath from her own gills, since she knew humans couldn't filter breath from the sea like merpeople could. She had left him on the rock; had he even seen her? Did he even know how close he had come to death? Would he ever wonder who had saved him?

Her imagination traveled forward in time to the day when she could be human; she would find him, wherever he might be, and he might not recognize her at first.

"Hello," she would say.

"Have we met?" he might ask.

She would laugh lightly. "I saved your life once," she would declare.

He might be surprised. "I had no idea! When was this?"

She might tease him, "Remember that day, when the storm came, and you almost drowned..."

"Talking to yourself, dearie?"

The vision of the young man's face disappeared, and in it's place stood a fierce-looking imp. He grinned at her with discolored teeth.

"Is the little princess lonely?" he teased, calmly walking in the water as if on solid land, not swimming or floating.

Ariel stared at him, "How did you find this place? Who are you?"

The little imp bowed with a grand flourish. "Rumplestiltskin is my name! I followed the sound of longing, and it brought me here! So tell me: what was it you were wishing for, just now?"

Ariel was not happy about her secret place being discovered. "Nothing," she told Rumplestiltskin.

"Ohh, come on!" he goaded her, "We both know that's not true! I'll bet you were thinking about the one thing that would be most impossible for you."

"To find love in the sea?" Ariel retorted bitterly.

Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "No—I'm betting you want to be human. Is that it?"

Ariel could not hide her astonishment at his accurate guess. "How could you know that?"

"Trade secret, dearie!" Rumplestiltskin chuckled, "It's my job to know! So—what would you trade to be human?"

Ariel felt the question like the shock of an eel through her body. "Trade?" she echoed dimly. To hear the dark imp speak, one would think the tail was something she could simply remove and give to him.

"Yes, trade." He waved his hand, and a small vial appeared in his fingers. "This potion will transform your tail into the legs of a human and close the gills in your throat so that you can breathe like a human, but for three days only."

"Three days?" What was the point in that?

"I haven't finished yet, dearie!" Rumplestiltskin held up a gnarled finger. "If you can find your true love in those three days, you will be human for as long as he loves you. If you return to the water before the three days are up, the magic is over and you'll be a mermaid again. Now—what would you give me for it?"  
Ariel's mind whirled; what wouldn't she give? But what did she have? She spent so much time in her own head that she didn't have any things she prized enough, or that the imp might consider valuable enough to agree to the trade.

She looked up at Rumplestiltskin. "I don't have anything!"

He grinned wider, "Nothing at all? My, your father must think you are useless, as well!"

Ariel suddenly recalled the council, and every council before that; the only time her father would show any kind of affection toward her was when he wanted—

"My songs?" she guessed, and the Dark Imp nodded. "But how can I give you my gift?"

Rumplestiltskin waved his hand and a wand appeared. "You'll give it the same way you got it, dearie!" A wave and a flick, and Ariel saw a thin, luminous strand emerge from her mouth and enter the wand. She clapped a hand over her mouth in alarm, and the stream ended.

"Do we have a deal?" Rumplestiltskin asked, his eyes glinting wierdly.

"I d-d-don't-t know." Jumping cowfish! Her voice sounded dull and flat, and what a stutter! "W-w-what hap-hap-happened?" she squawked.

"You still have your voice," Rumplestiltskin tucked the wand in a hidden fold of his cloak. "There's just no music to it." He laughed when she frowned, "Oh come now, you don't think I'd let you run about enchanting every man you see! You'll have to come up with some other way to win the boys' affection, dearie!" The imp cackled.

What would the young man think if the girl who saved his life came up to him talking like this? Would it not be easier to remain a mermaid and retain her songs? The young man might live his whole life without a care for who had saved it on that fateful day—could she bear it?

"Y-y-es," she stammered out, "W-w-we have a d-d-deal." She would have to learn to control it before they met.

Rumple handed her the vial. "Then this would be yours. Swim up to the surface before you take it, dearie, and make sure you can climb out of the water quickly; wouldn't want you drowning on your very first day, now, would we?" The minute he finished, he was gone in a puff of smoke black as squid-ink.

Ariel looked at the bottle; it appeared to be normal liquid inside, if a bit strange in color. She sighed and swam out of her grotto. She swam to the far side of the island of Overcliff, where the rocky cliffs opened up to a stony beach and a series of wooden posts, with boards between them. Ariel had often seen humans walking on these without drowning. She figured she would be able to climb up quick enough. Her tail quivered at the thought of what was to come; when she came free of the water, would she finally get to fly?  
Ariel positioned herself just below one of the walking places. Bracing herself, she uncorked the bottle and poured the potion into her mouth.

It blazed like the sting of a sea urchin all the way down her throat. As the potion entered her belly, Ariel felt a strange feeling in her throat, as if her gills had suddenly seared shut. Water was coming in—but she could no longer breathe! Desperately, she shoved her face against the walk-place, gasping the air above the water for the first time.

But the potion had not finished. The stinging pain seemed to seep right past her stomach, all the way down to her tail—and right down the middle of that to her fin. The potion cut her tail in two like a shark's bite, ripping into flesh and bone. Ariel could not even scream as she felt the flexibility of her tail stiffening into rigid, jointed legs and feet. Frantically, she reached up and pulled her head above the water. Heaving, spewing, the former mermaid filled fresh lungs with gasps of real air.


	4. Chapter 4: Save Our Shoals

**Storybrooke**

Henry stepped out of the school building and saw his mom's yellow bug waiting for him at the curb.

"Hey, kiddo," she said as he climbed in. "How was school?"

"Oh," he bobbed his head, "y'know."

Emma chuckled, "Yeah, unfortunately, I do."

They drove past Marine Garage. Behind it, Hilary Anderson was busy cleaning the most recent catch of fish.  
Henry saw his mom watching. "Do you know her?" he asked abruptly.

"I talked to her this morning," Emma answered, watching fish after fish drop into the ice chest next to the table.

His point became clear with his next question.  
"You know who she is, right?"

Emma rolled her eyes. The fairytale thing again!  
"Umm..." No one came to mind, so she said, "No, Henry, I have no idea."

"Seriously?" he asked. "It's Ariel!"

Emma pulled to a stop and watched carefully.  
"No," she answered quickly, "No way! The little mermaid? I'd expect her to be something like a marine biologist, or a pet store owner or something." She nodded to where Hilary lifted another bucket of fish onto the table. "Hilary seems pretty handy at gutting the fish."

"That's not the point!" Henry retorted.

Emma watched as a man in a black trench coat approached the young woman. She immediately backed away from the table the knife forgotten in her hand. He said something to her, pulling a sheaf of papers out of his jacket pocket as he did so. Hilary responded and tried to read the papers, but he folded them of her sight before she could do so. He shook his finger at her, gestured to the garage and the harbor. Hilary appeared distraught, defeated by something he said. He stepped forward, still talking heatedly, and when she backed away, he snatched the hand that held the knife by the wrist. Emma jumped out of the car.

"Hey!" she yelled, holding up her badge, "What do you think you're doing?"

The man gave Hilary's arm a violent yank and strode away as Emma approached.

"Hilary!" Emma reached the girl's side.

Tears coursed down the redhead's face as she sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff!" she sniffed.

"Don't be sorry," Emma said, putting an arm around her. "Who was that guy, and what did he want?"

Hilary wiped her face on her sleeve. "That is one of the union bosses in charge of the trawling company that collects fish in the harbor," she explained. "He comes every few days to threaten my dad with official forms and financial reports."

"Why is he harassing you?" Emma asked. "If he has some complaint to make, why doesn't he go to court?"

Hilary sighed and went about cleaning up her mess. "It's not really complaints or anything like that; more like he thinks he can convince us to let his company just take over the area completely, by making it impossible for us to keep the garage if we don't. And," she smirked sheepishly, "I'm the weakest link in the chain, so to speak. Those guys freak me out, and they know it."

Emma frowned, "Sounds like illegal harassment to me."

Hilary shrugged. "He hasn't physically done anything yet; even if we did take it to court, it's his word against mine—and not many people believe me when I say I've been hurt." A shadow passed over Hilary's face, but she set her jaw and continued. "Anyway, we've tried getting the mayor involved, but the commercial boats have all their permits and pay all their fees, so the town bylaws allow them to fish right around our buoys." Hilary gazed out over the water and sighed, "We just have to keep working hard, and either we get enough money to pay off the commercial fishers, or I end up saving enough to go to Julliard—however long that takes."

Emma searched hard for something hopeful to cheer the woebegone girl. "With a voice like yours," she began, "I don't wonder if you shouldn't carry a tip jar for people to put money in, see how far you get."

A voice erupted by her elbow. "What about a benefit concert?"

Emma looked down at Henry, who had climbed out of the car and now stood staring in awe at the girl he was convinced had to be a mermaid in a past life.

"Whoa, there, buster," Emma quelled her eager son. "A benefit concert?"

"Yeah! Then Hilary could be earning money toward a cause for her talent, and not just begging money for herself."

"What cause, though?" Emma shook her head, "Stop commercialism?"

"Naw," Henry shook his head, "It needs something catchy, something that tells people that the small fishermen will harvest fish with respect for the environment and concern for the quality and health of the fish and marine life, instead of sweeping up whole shoals in their big nets and shipping it out to other parts of the country." He grinned at Hilary, "Am I right?"

She gnawed her lip and nodded. His excitement was making her nervous. "Pretty much; it's the Anderson Guarantee."

Henry snapped his fingers. "I've got it!" he cried, "Save Our Shoals!"

"And just where exactly would you hold a Save Our Shoals concert?" Emma challenged him.

Henry was ready, "The Castle Theater. It has a nice stage and plenty of room. It's perfect!"

"I don't know," Hilary hedged. "No offense, Henry, but I really don't think a concert would work." She glanced furtively toward the Garage. "I have to go now. Talk to you later! And—" she made eye contact with Emma. "Thanks," she said.

Once they were back in the Beetle, Emma looked suspiciously at her son. He avoided her gaze.

"The Castle Theater?" she needled him. "What gave you that idea?"

Henry shrugged and pulled a brochure out of his backpack. "I saw the guy who came after Hilary last week, and so I looked all over town to find out where Prince Eric ended up."

"Prince? Oh, right," Emma rolled her eyes as they pulled up to the apartment. "The mermaid thing."

"It's true! And the owner of the Castle Theater is the right guy!"

Emma had to laugh as she climbed out of the car. "Rick Royal is a prince? Well—" she paused as the likelihood occurred to her. "He acts so much like a diva that I guess it wouldn't be too much of a stretch."

Henry grinned, "Now you're getting it. Rick and Hilary have to be together, because he's her true love!"

"Didn't Prince Eric dump Ariel for some other chick, so she got depressed and killed herself?"

"Only in some versions of the story," Henry defended his beloved storybook, "the ones that don't have all the facts!"

"And your book does?" Emma eyed him carefully from the bottom of the front steps.

Henry nodded. "Have I been wrong yet, Mom?"

Emma sighed and opened the door. "There's always a first time, bucko," she muttered. If what he said was true, Hilary and Rick had a long way to go, since at this point neither knew the other existed!


	5. Chapter 5: Fish Out of Water

**Enchanted Forest**

Ariel fought to stay upright as she walked, resting her whole weight against a wooden frame she used for balance.

She had made it into town safely enough. After emerging from the water, she noticed a singularity that she hadn't considered in all her daydreams: humans wore clothes. It took only a short time of wandering around the docks wrapped in a large swath of sailcloth to find a suitable woman willing to get the shy, strange girl some decent clothing. Now Ariel was headed into town, searching the faces of everyone she passed for her special young man.

The most difficult thing about that was it took most of her concentration just to stay upright. She had none of the coordination for walking. Each step sent a jolt through her delicate body. She figured she probably looked like such a dolt that she might not have to worry about driving him away with her stutter; he'd see her coming and run of his own accord.

Ariel let her tangled hair fall over her shoulders so she could feel it again. Once she had been in the sun long enough, the thin sheen of water she had covering was gone. It felt so different to be clinging to the ground like this, instead of floating over it. What kept the humans upright, if they all had this terrible, dragging weight to them? They all looked at her strangely as she careened hither and thither between the markets.

"Look out, girl!" Ariel shrieked as a large wagon pulled by a strange animal bore down on her. She abandoned the frame and tumbled out of it's path.

**_SPLAT!_**

Ariel felt like she was back in the sea as she landed headfirst in a cart full of fish. She flailed her arms, but the fish would not let her go. Unexpectedly, a human hand grabbed hers and pulled, bringing her up and out of the cart. Ariel frowned to see that the fish had left stains and slime on her dress.

"Hello, there!" A voice laughed.

Ariel looked up. Her rescuer had dark hair and twinkling sea-blue eyes. He smiled at her. "Are you all right? That was quite a tumble!"

"Y-y-yes," she stammered. Her cheeks burned to hear her dead, clumsy voice. The encounter had frightened her; now the crowded market seemed to her a death trap; she cringed at the slightest noise, and whenever anything cane within two feet of her.

The young man laughed to watch her cringe and squeal. "Poor thing!" he cried. "You look like you could use a quiet place to sit and collect yourself. Would you like that?"

"Y...yes." The word was short and gruff, like the bark of a dog.

"Very well, then." He offered his arm. "My name is Eric. What is yours?"

Oh gracious! She didn't know if she could manage her own name.  
"Ar-Ariel-l," she sputtered.

Eric nodded. "Well, Arariella," he said, "Welcome to Overcliff. Let me show you a grand time."

What a grand time it was! Eric found that the longer he listened to Arariella's stilted, bland tones, the more accustomed he became. They purchased jugs of fresh-mulled cider and loaves of bread in the market, and brought them out to a wide field to dine and talk, away from the crowds. The two talked over petty likes and dislikes. Eric began to notice a pattern among the topics Arariella chose.

"You must be from one of the sea-towns on the mainland," he guessed. "I'm betting your father is a fish merchant, am I right?"

Ariel smirked shyly. "More...fish... than...m-merch-chant," she quipped, hoping that he would take it as the joke Ariel the human would mean it for.

Eric laughed. "That bad, huh? I understand." His face grew serious, "My father is too wrapped up in his work, too. Sometimes, I just want to get out of this place, and I wonder if my father would even notice if I was gone."

Ariel's thoughts dipped briefly below the surface of the water, toward her own father; did he notice her absence?

"Anyway, I am still waiting for the right time, I guess," Eric continued. "I know that once I find the right excuse, my father will let me travel and not be anxious over my return, like academics," he winked at Ariel and said, "or marriage."

Ariel's embarrassment made the stutter even worse. "D-d-don't-t-t m-m-ma-make-k-k—D-don't-t s-s-sa-say..."

Eric threw back his head and howled. "Would you look at you! Hahaha! That's got you all tongue tied, hasn't it?" He quieted, but the bemusement remained. "In all seriousness, Arariella, I envy you; you come to my country having freely left your own to begin a fresh start in a whole new world. I wish I could have that chance!"

Ariel couldn't help feeling that there was something familiar about the longing in his eyes as he spoke.  
"Not...really," she spoke slowly, quelling the relentless urge to stutter over each consonant. "Truly... I...feel I...changed...so much th-that maybe...I...didn't leave...at all...but...that...someone...else...not...me... left...in my...place."

Eric shrugged and drank from his jug. "That's an interesting point: why leave if you have to be someone other than yourself? I can't help feeling that I certainly wouldn't want to risk not being myself. I don't know; you seem like a genuine article to me. In fact—" he peered at her searchingly, "I can't help feeling that we've met somewhere before."

Ariel frowned; this was her first time in the human world; how could they have met?

Eric soon dispelled her confusion. "Oh now I remember!" he cried. "You remind me of the girl in my dreams." He looked at her with eyes alight.

Ariel, full knowing the terms of her agreement with Rumplestiltskin, wondered if this was the kind of meeting she was comfortable with. "D-d-dreams?" she forgot all about covering her stutter.

Eric shook his head. "Not like that!" He tried to explain, "Okay: a few days ago I was out boating with some friends. A storm hit and the boat sank. I survived when they didn't, and just before the world went black..." He had been speaking very animatedly, but suddenly he recalled himself and stopped. "Never mind," he muttered, "I sound ridiculous."

Ariel felt the realization flooding over her heart. "You...wonder...how... you... woke... up... on... the... rock... in... the... Channel."

Eric blinked in astonishment. "How did you—oh gods, you are her!" He seized Ariel's hands with sudden energy. "You're the girl who saved me!" He reached up and smoothed her hair from her face. It was the same! The pale skin, the ethereal eyes! He had not recognized the flame-colored hair. "How can I repay you?" he gasped.

She blushed; isn't that just what she wanted him to say? Why did she feel so unworthy, then? "Well, you saved me at the market," she mumbled.

Eric shook his head at the stuttering girl's modesty. "From the fish barrel?" he chuckled, "Come, that was nothing; I only rescued your dignity. That is far less than a life! I am still in your debt; tell me what you—"

"Your highness!"

The pair looked up as a well-dressed courtier approached from the road. He seemed to be waving to them—for a moment Ariel wondered how a human could know she was a princess, but then Eric was pulling her to her feet and straightening his appearance. He smiled as the courtier bowed. Suddenly the young lady felt her heart thudding within her as she realized she had grossly underestimated her new friend.

"On second thought," Eric was saying with a grin, "I have an idea. How about a room at the royal palace?" He winked at her.

Ariel's brain was spinning out of control. "P-p-p-p-palace! H-h-highn-n-ness!" She was so astounded that she would have run away, but he still held her hands. She did not know what to think. "Y-y-y-you! You're th-th-th-the-the—"

The courtier frowned at the stunned young lady, and told Prince Eric, "Your father requests that you return to receive the Queen when she arrives this evening."

Eric sighed and dropped Ariel's hands to run his through his hair. "Oh yes, the Queen." He sighed, "I'd forgotten about that."

The courtier couldn't help casting a worried glance toward the strange woman behind the prince, who had ceased jabbering and lapsed into petrified silence. "I beg your pardon, Highness, but what is that?"

Eric stepped aside and led Ariel forward. "Don't be rude, Giles! I want you to give her a room, and servants, and dresses befitting a lady who saved the Prince's life!"

Giles' eyes opened wide. He had been among those concerned for the Prince's safety during the storm that claimed so many lives, and elated at his miraculous rescue. He now smiled at Ariel. "Oh! Right this way, Milady!"

Hearing mention of her new friend's identity only sent Ariel into another bout of stuttering. "Th-th-the-the-the p-p-p-p-p-p—"


	6. Chapter 6: Ready to Stand?

**Storybrooke**

Emma had just departed the sheriff's office for Henry's school, when he called her cell phone.

"Hey," she answered it, "what's up?"

"Hi, can you meet me at Granny's? I came here after school."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

Henry was as cryptic as ever. "I'll tell you when you get here."

"All right," Emma picked up her keys and her purse, "I'll be there in a few."

She walked into Granny's Diner, but could not see Henry.

Ruby walked by with two hamburger plates.

"Hey Ruby," Emma greeted her.

"Hi Emma," the dark-haired girl greeted her with a wide grin. "Looking for Henry?"

"Yeah," Emma said.

Ruby nodded, "I'm headed that way, he's over there with the girl."

Emma blinked, "What girl?"

Emma arrived at Henry's booth and found Hilary Anderson sitting with him.

"Hi, Hilary," Emma remarked, sitting down as Ruby set the plates in front of them.

"Hi," she muttered.

Henry had more of a positive attitude. "We're talking about the benefit concert."

Emma accepted the lemonade provided by Ruby and shook her head at her irrepressible son, "You're talking like it's a done deal."

Henry dove into his backpack, "It almost is! See, I even drew up some posters for it!"

Emma raised her eyebrow, "Isn't this your _school_ notebook?" She surveyed the designs. They depicted Hilary with a long dress and a microphone at the center of a school of brightly-colored fish. Emma noted but deliberately ignored the fact that Henry had fashioned the dress in roughly the shape of a fish tail.

"All we need to do is get Hilary down to the Castle Theater to audition for Mr. Royal," Henry stated.

Emma caught the fear on Hilary's face. "Wait, is this a _competition_ at the Theater?"

Henry shook his head, "No, she would be auditioning to be able to perform in the theater."

Emma snorted, "No way! You don't have to audition to rent a theater."

"Yes you do!" Henry objected. "She has to, remember, Mom?" He raised his eyebrows significantly.

She shook her head. "Yeah...nuh-uh, kiddo. There's no auditioning involved. You just need enough money to pay the rate." She pulled out her cell phone. "Then you _call_, like this." Emma dialed the number on the brochure.

A somber, nasally voice answered.

"Castle Theater, this is Sebastian, how may I help you?"

Emma cleared her throat, "Ahem, yes, my name is Emma Swann and I'm calling to find out about your rates for the stage—"

"Sheriff Swann!" Sebastian cut in, with much more warmth but still slow diction. "How nice of you to call; I had no idea you were of the artistic persuasion! What sort of performance will it be?"

Emma sighed. "It's not for me; someone else will be performing. Do you have any openings in the next week?"

"_Whom_ are you representing?" The tone was reserved and withdrawn, almost suspicious.

"Hilary Anderson," Emma stated, winking at the girl in question who was busily engaged in fidgeting a napkin to smithereens.

"Hmm, yes..." he seemed to be reading something. "I have never heard that name. Has she already produced an album that Mr. Royal can listen to?"

"What? No, we just want—"

"I'm sorry, but Miss Anderson must come down to the theater and audition if she would like to perform here."

"But that's—"

"Company policy, I am afraid. Mr. Royal does not want anyone on his stage whom he cannot personally recommend. Therefore, an audition is necessary."

"Fine," Emma sighed, "I'll talk to her about it." She ended the call.

Henry grinned at her. "So, mom," he ribbed, "what did he say?"

Emma sighed and looked across the table at Hilary. "His assistant confirmed that in order to be able to perform at the theater, Hilary would first need to audition."

"Yes!" Henry raised his fists emphatically. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

"Maybe we should find somewhere else," Hilary muttered. "Like the park or something. It's free to perform there."

"Come on, Hilary!" Henry begged, "You have to do this! Rick Royal is going to _love_ you, I know it!"

"Hey now!" Emma warned her exuberant son.

He shrugged off her concern.

"I just don't think I'm ready," Hilary sighed.

"Of course you are," Henry persisted. "You've been looking forward to this moment your whole life—you just can't remember."

Hilary raised an eyebrow at Emma. Emma shook her head; if she couldn't dissuade Henry from his wild ideas, at the very least she wanted to avoid encouraging them.

Just then, Granny approached the group. "Sorry to interrupt, but there's a call just come in for Hilary."

Hilary looked almost grateful as she stood to answer the phone at the front of the diner.

Henry clutched his head as he stared at his posters.

"This has to work!" he muttered to himself.

Emma shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you, Henry; I really don't think Hilary wants to perform."

"She loves singing," Henry objected, "and she is really good at it! There really isn't anything else but her shyness getting in her way."

Just then, Hilary returned. Her face was flushed, like she was on the verge of tears. "That was Dad; he needs me back at the garage. I'm sorry."

"Aww, don't be," Emma waved sympathetically, "we totally understand."

Henry remained optimistic. "Maybe tomorrow?" he asked her.

Hilary shrugged, "Maybe," she answered.

"All right," Henry accepted this as a positive answer, "same time, same place."

Hilary shrugged, "We'll see."

"Bye, Hilary!" Emma waved as she left.

Henry watched her leave. Another day gone; time was running out! If he couldn't get Snow White her Prince Charming, then Ariel had to work! Then his mom would see—and maybe even believe.

**Enchanted Forest**

Regina paced in the grand chamber King Theodore reserved for her. Why had he not seen her? She arrived in state the evening before, and here had passed a full day where not once had she received any word on the result or progress of the negotiations for jurisdiction of the Channel. She paced because there was nothing else to do.

Regina sneered as the Prince tried to keep up a regal stroll while a well-dressed waif tottered and stumbled beside him. She couldn't think where the girl had sprung from, but apparently she pleased His Highness.

"Here I thought the little prince would be a confirmed bachelor," she mused aloud.

"That's the silly thing about love," A strange voice replied, "It'll turn you into something completely different than you ever thought possible."

Regina whirled to face the one person in the world who would know what she herself had done for love.

"Rumple." She scowled.

He bowed with a flourish. "The one and only!" he crowed.

Regina resumed looking out the window. "I should have known you had something to do with this."

Instantly the imp was so close she could feel his wide golden eyes staring into her and his breath on her neck. "With the prince? No, dearie, I can safely say I had nothing to do with him."

"The girl, then," Regina watched her trip, and Eric caught her. "What do you care? She's clumsy, dull, and can't say two words without that atrocious stutter. I would think that such a klutz could not possibly have anything you would want."

"Ehh," Rumplestiltskin shrugged, "First day on new legs."

Regina nailed the dark imp with a glare that warned him not to tease her thus. But she saw no insincerity in his face. Was he speaking literally? "You're kidding, right?" His face did not move. "_What are you doing, Rumple_?" the Queen of the Enchanted Forest demanded.

Rumplestiltskin shrugged and danced away. "She wanted love; I got something precious in return. But," he turned heel to face her again. "I wouldn't worry about that if I were you."

Regina frowned and took a few steps toward him. "Why not?"

Rumple laughed. "If I were you, I would worry more about why you got such a nice room." he gestured to the vaulted ceilings, the wide spaces, and the exquisite furnishings.

"Of course I did," Regina told him with a frown, "I'm the Queen."

Rumple was still laughing like Regina could not see the big joke being played on her. "Not here; has the king signed the deal yet?"

Regina waved a hand. "There's no hurry; I'm sure he doesn't intend to force me to stay forever. I'll get it eventually." She grinned cruelly, "And when I'm Queen over the Channel, Undersea will be within my domain, as well."

Rumple still grinned at her like she was a child. "Too bad that won't happen," he sang.

The grin vanished. "_What_?" the queen snarled.

"Didn't you hear? Prince Eric has convinced his father that Overcliff needs the Channel; he is delaying his father writing up the agreement you want."

Regina drew herself up to her full, dreadful height. "How dare he!" She fumed.

"And the girl supports him in it!" Rumple continued, "To hear them talk, one might even think that it might have been her idea." He kept staring at Regina as if to gauge how much his words affected her.

Regina stormed back to the window. Eric and the girl were sitting on a bench, their heads close together, talking about something.

"Hmm..." A plan started to form in her mind. The little hussy thought she could thwart the Queen? "So she came after him for love, did she?"

"Mm-hm; one could say love made her human." Rumple placed strange emphasis on that last word.

Regina watched the girl carefully, noting the gentle compassion in the Prince's face. "So what if she had a little competition?" She turned her gaze to the imp behind her. "What if another woman caught his eye?" she raised her eyebrow significantly.

Rumplestiltskin's eyes gleamed, and he grinned maniacally. "It just might tear her apart."

Regina smirked. "Sounds like fun!"


	7. Chapter 7: The Girl Who Has Everything

In the Great Hall the next morning, Ariel was enjoying herself. She had been a human for two days, but already she getting the hang of eating, sleeping, walking, and behaving just like a human would. Eric still called her the wrong name, but at least now it was Ariella, not Arariella. Perhaps the next day she would tell Eric her real name.

She allowed herself a small quiver of excitement.

He had promised to take her to the Lake today. It would be her first time near the water since becoming human. For now they stood formally dressed side by side as an emissary from some nearby kingdom arrived: Melinda, princess of Crossway.

Ariel watched the magnificent princess stride in, accepting the honor like it was only way to be treated. Her long golden hair and deep blue eyes were so quintessential that Ariel smirked to think of how she and Eric would make fun at her in private. Then she noticed Eric's face.

The prince was totally relaxed, almost mesmerized by the sight of her. Ariel observed that he watched the princess so closely that she could practically see the sunlight reflecting off her many jewels glittering in his eyes.

She bowed to him and offered her hand.

"Your Majesty."

Just two words, but they struck a death-knell in Ariel's soul. She felt the music of their tones like a knife through her heart.

Princess Melinda spoke again, "It is an _honor_ to be received so _graciously_ in this kingdom."

Every syllable served as a reminder to Ariel of what she lost. She gave Eric's hand a comforting—albeit desperate—little squeeze.

He blinked. "Oh, your Highness, let me present a dear friend of mine, Lady Ariella."

Princess Melinda smiled benignly at Ariel, and grasped her shoulders. Ariel felt the adoration emanating from her smile and a warmth from her soft hands.

"How _wonderful_ to meet you!" trilled the magnificent princess.

Moving in a trance, Eric dropped Ariel's hand and immediately offered Melinda his arm. Ariel watched the royals depart and noticed that Queen Regina holding King Theodore's arm in much the same way. She followed them, walking alone, till a soft touch on her arm caused her to pause.

Giles, Eric's valet, stood behind her. His face was lined with concern. He said not a word, but offered his hand. Ariel accepted by placing her hand in his. He brought it under his close arm, assuming the post of escort for her. As they walked, Ariel realized that his eyes were a deep, warm brown.

"It is a poor Prince who does not take his leave of a lady, even for one of higher rank," Giles remarked, "Particularly if he owes one such lady a life debt."

Ariel blushed at his care. Nothing in decorum required the serving-man to take notice of Ariel beyond the interests of his master, and yet here he was, following the prince's example of rescuing this girl's dignity-albeit covering for the prince's own neglect.

"He is lucky to have a man like you to serve him," she murmured.

The young man with the dusty-brown hair bobbed his head modestly. "My father served his father. We practically grew up together." Giles brought her out to the courtyard, just in time to watch Eric, Melinda, Regina, and Theodore ride out from the stables. All Ariel could think about was the fact that she had a hard enough time on her own two legs; she didn't think she could manage riding an animal with four.

Giles turned, and by his expression, Ariel knew he saw how pale she was. Suddenly, he leaned close and said quickly, "Forgive me, Lady Ariella, but I must warn you. A strong suspicion has grown in my heart ever since I first saw the princess. Watch her carefully, for all may not be as it seems." He took his leave with a bow.

Ariel wondered at the suddenness of the young man's reaction, but the more she watched the way Melinda interacted with Eric, the more she noticed Giles might actually be right. Eric spent every moment positively glued to Melinda's side. The King and Queen returned about midday, and informed the cooks that the Prince and Princess requested a luncheon sent out to them. They didn't return till nightfall.

Through all this, Giles came to Ariel's aid as much as he could. He even gave her suggestions on how to overcome her stutter, even though success in this area was well-nigh impossible since it was brought on by magic.

Two days of the original three Eric had loved her. After two days with Melinda monopolizing every minute, at the end of the second day, Ariel felt a heavy yawn and a sigh come. When she stretched her mouth and gasped, she heard a slight popping sound. She stopped; what had popped? Something in her throat? She breathed again. Something fluttered. Suddenly, it seemed that Ariel could not get as much breath as usual, that she had to gasp several times to get the amount of air in one breath. Then she knew what happened: her gills were coming loose. She was losing her humanity, because Eric had ceased to love her.

Ariel tried to go about normally, dining with the royals as usual. She noticed that the King and Queen talked more openly about the surrender of the Channel, while Eric ignored them to wait on Melinda. Ariel felt that as long as she hid the sound of her furious, shallow panting, she could find a way to reverse this process before anyone found out the truth.

As they dined that afternoon, Melinda turned her sapphire gaze upon the poor lady.

"My dear," she warbled, "Are you all right?" The princess grasped Ariel's hand out of apparent concern. As quickly as she grabbed, she released. "Oh my! Your hands, they feel so cold, like a _fish_!"

Ariel looked at her hand in alarm. Was it her imagination, or was her human skin beginning to flake off, revealing the scales underneath.

The breathing difficulty increased. Ariel knew that she had only a short time to regain his attention. She could not do that while Melinda clung to him like a leech.

"Eric..." she began, but she could not think of anything to tell him that would send a clear enough message to him without alerting the princess. Ariel stood and left the room. On her way out, she heard the princess speaking to Eric.

"She looks so very unwell! I don't know what's gotten into her. No matter! Dear Prince, you have a lovely green out behind the castle. Do you, perchance, play croquet?"

Ariel ran to her room. Water! She needed water to saturate her throat. Her gills were not all open because her throat was too dry, but her lungs were no longer processing air as well as a human's did. She found the washbasin and the jug of water. Speedily, she poured the whole jug in and dunked her face.

Relief at last. Ariel gasped and spluttered as her gills flapped open at the presence of water, and she could breathe normally again.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her out. Ariel coughed and spluttered as she looked into the horrified face of Giles.

"My lady, have you gone mad?" he demanded forcefully. "What is the meaning of this?"

Ariel began panting again, and her knees felt weak. She looked down. Her wet human skin was flaking off at an even greater rate. She had no choice but to tell the truth right now, or she would die.

"Giles!" She panted. "You...must...know... the... truth...I...am...not...the...lady...you... think...I...am." She held up her hand for him to see. He held it in his own and studied the revealed scales in surprise as Ariel continued. "I am...m-mermaid...traded...voice...to become human...to find...the man...I love; but... the spell...wearing off...soon I... will be... mermaid again...and...die...unless I can... win him back!"

Giles dropped her hand. "Lady Ariella—"

She smiled ruefully and shook her head. "I am... Princess Ariel... of Undersea."

"Your Highness, then," Giles insisted. "To me and to every other human you are none other than the Prince's savior. He owes you his life, we owe you our prince." He rested his fingertips against her chin and tipped her face up. "No more, no less," he assured her. "Therefore I will do everything in my power to provide everything you need." To demonstrate, he turned and called a passing servant. "Hello, there!"

A maid stuck her head in. "Yes sir?"

"Ask no questions, but only draw a large bath for the lady. Take care it is not too warm."

The orders confused the maid, but Giles had said not to ask questions, so she complied.

Giles assisted Ariel to the bed. "I will try to speak with Eric this evening. Rest now, Highness."

The maid left, and Ariel eagerly slipped into the water. She gulped deeply, feeling the water lift her gills and breath re-energize her whole body. When she emerged a few hours later, she checked her skin carefully. Luckily her hands were about the only thing showing any scales. A pair of gloves took care of that, and Ariel could be human once more. She sat before the large hearth as the sun set. She heard a knock at the door.

Regina stood outside, bearing a tray with two covered platters and two goblets of spiced wine.

Her expression was all sympathy and concern.

"I heard you weren't feeling well," she said, coming in and setting the tray on the table, "so I thought you might appreciate some supper with a friend."

Ariel stared at the plate. She was very hungry, and the wine smelled good. She had thought that Princess Melinda and Queen Regina were working together, seeing as they were so friendly toward each other, but perhaps it was only out of courtesy. Perhaps the princess functioned with her own designs. She sat down and supped with the Queen, feeling the stress of the day ebb from her body. She ate the food and drained the goblet; she had never known drink to taste this good. There was a hint of the sea about it...

Ariel's head dropped, and she slumbered deeply. Regina smiled as she stood.

"No sea creature can resist the taste of jetsam-weed," she mused to the unconscious victim. "Sleep well, little mermaid. When you wake, your father's kingdom will be mine!"

Ariel knew nothing but murky darkness until a voice called her out of the depths.

"Milady! Lady Ariel! Highness! Wake up!"

Ariel blinked. Giles stood over her, desperate to awaken her. The sun shone brightly through the window. Why was he so worried? Ariel felt her hands; why was she wearing gloves? She moved to take them off—then stopped in horror as her skin began to come away with them! Suddenly everything that happened the previous day came back to her in a rush, and she gave such a gasp that her dry gills crackled. She looked up at Giles and tried to ask him for water to moisten her throat, but it was so dry, no sound could pass her lips.

"Wa...wa—wa—" she panted.

The faithful servant understood. He grabbed the fresh jug from the maid and handed it to her. Ariel gratefully filled her lungs with the liquid.

"Must get...to Eric!" she cried, pulling her weak body out of bed. Instead of standing, she collapsed on the floor. Her legs were as limp as fish tails. Giles dove forward and supported her feeble body.

"I am afraid you are too late, your highness," he mourned, "The others have already left for the carnival. There will be no hope of finding them now."

Ariel looked mournfully at her hands.

"That's not...the worst..." She offered Giles a hand. Already, the glove hung from it, half-off, revealing the scaled, webbed appendage underneath. She met eyes with the astonished young man.

"I must...get to water... soon!"

Giles immediately gripped the wet, fishy hand in his own dry, firm one.

"Come with me, your Highness."


	8. Chapter 8: The Audition

**Storybrooke**

The next day, Emma returned to Granny's. Henry met her outside, almost beside himself.

"Oh good, you're here," he greeted his mom with a sigh. "Hilary hasn't shown up yet."

"Henry..." Emma refrained from groaning.

"She's going to make it this time!" he insisted. "She has to!"

They waited almost half an hour, but Hilary never arrived. Emma's patience thinned. "We're not waiting any longer," she declared.

"Please, Emma!" Henry clung to her. "Stay! She'll show up! Maybe she just took a while to make the decision, but I'm—"

Emma stopped him as a large truck rumbled by, and she glimpsed the driver. "Wait, what is Trent Anderson doing with a moving van?"

"Didn't you hear?" Granny snorted behind her. "The Andersons are near bankrupt. They're moving out to Trent's sister's place in Boston."

"But they can't leave!" Henry burst out frantically.

"It doesn't sound like they have a choice, Henry."

"No, I mean they _can't_! They'll die!" his voice dropped to the confidential level. "Remember?" he said, "The curse? They'll die!" Aloud he cried, "We have to stop them right now!"

Before Emma could react, Henry was off and running down the block to Marine Garage.

Mother and son arrived as Trent and his employees—brothers, nephews and friends—swarmed around the U-Haul, carrying boxes from the small living apartment above the garage where Trent and Hilary stayed, into the truck. Emma saw Hilary just putting some personal items in the truck's cab.  
"Hilary!" she called.

The redhead had dark streaks running down her face.  
"Sorry I couldn't get the chance you wanted me to have," she sobbed as Emma put her arms around her.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Dad's creditors came around," Hilary sniffed. "Apparently there are some extra fees that now apply to running a fishing business, and new code standards for the garage. We don't have the money anymore, Emma!"

"That gosh-darn mayor has run us out of town!" Trent grumbled as he passed them. "Ain't no use trying to scrape out a living here with the sharks who live off of taking other people's money!"

Emma gazed at Hilary with sympathy. "What about Julliard?"

Hilary shook her head. "I tried to help Dad, but even what I had saved wasn't enough. I'll have to start over—if we can find somewhere to live." She broke down and sobbed into Emma's shoulder. "I don't see a way out of this!"

Henry emerged at Emma's side and reached out for Hilary's hand.  
"There is still one way you could find enough money to stay: the benefit concert."

Hilary scoffed through her tears, "The one that won't happen because I'm too chicken?"

Henry cast a furtive glance at Emma before responding, "My mom always told me to try something before I give up on it."

Hilary remained unconvinced.

"Please?" Henry begged, "At least come down there with us!"

Hilary gave a long, shaky sigh. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to give one shot before we leave for good."

Henry didn't hesitate. "Yes!" he cheered. "Let's go there now! We don't have all day!"

Hilary nodded, and they all piled into Emma's yellow bug to drive to the other side of town, to the Castle Theater.

Henry burst through the double doors and breathlessly announced, "She's here!"

The man with the smooth, brown coif looked up in alarm, as if the place were a library and not a performance center.

"Who is here?" he asked in the slow, nasally voice Emma recognized.

She strode forward. "Grimsby, right?" She put on her best bounty-hunter voice. "We talked earlier. Now, you said that if my friend Hilary Anderson wanted to perform on that stage, she would need to audition first. So here she is," Emma gestured to the stricken girl, "ready to sing."

Grimsby glanced at her dubiously. "Very well," he acquiesced, "this way, please."

The trio followed Grimsby down a small hallway toward the back of the theater. Two doors stood right next to each other. He unlocked one of them.

"Enter here, please," he instructed Hilary.

She cast a deer-in-the-headlights glance at Emma, who motioned to encourage her.

Once she was inside, Grimsby opened the other door and entered the room. Emma and Henry still followed.

Emma saw at once that the room Hilary had entered was a recording booth, with countless microphones and little else. The two rooms were divided by a large glass window.

Grimsby sat at the soundboard like the master of everything. He adjusted levels and flipped toggles until finally he said, "Go ahead," into an intercom connected to the sound booth.

Hilary balked. "I...I thought I was going to sing for Mr. Royal," she looked through the window at Emma.

Grimsby replied, "Mr. Royal receives only the best auditions. I screen the rest. If I deem you worthy enough, I will record your audition and play it for him. Now, sing!"

"Uh..." Hilary's stomach dropped to her toes as her mind suddenly went blank. Her mouth was dry, and her throat was parched. "Can I get some water?" she asked in a small voice.

Grimsby frowned and pointed to a corner of the booth. Hilary realized that the square "table" there covered with a blanket was in reality a mini-fridge stocked with water bottles. She took one and drank it. The dryness remained. Why couldn't she just pick a song and start singing?

"Well?" Grimsby's voice sounded harsh over the intercom.

In the mixing booth, Emma glanced over at Henry. He had both fists clenched in agitation, and he was muttering, "C'mon... Just sing! C'mon!"

At last, Hilary's voice came over the microphone.  
"Well...what do you want to hear?"

Henry clapped a hand over his eyes.

Grimsby leaned into the intercom vindictively.  
"I'm sorry, Miss Anderson; I'm afraid Castle Theater cannot accomodate you at this time."

Hilary's nerves got the better of her and she burst out crying. Grimsby severed the audio feed with something close to pleasure.

"No!" Henry burst out before Emma could stop him. "Let her sing!"

"She's not singing, she's crying!" Grimsby snapped back. Emma noticed that his queer voice was sounding even queerer for some reason. In her experience, there was only one reason for the change in the tone of voice.

"You're hiding something," she said to Grimsby.

He flinched guiltily, and his voice was a touch too loud as he exclaimed, "No I'm n-not!"

She glanced at the photos around the studio. There was a degree in theater from a performing arts college issued to Sebastian Grimsby, but the man seemed to be more in an administrative job than anything on stage.

Henry made the connection first.  
"He turned you down," he guessed, "didn't he?"

Grimsby glared through the window at the sobbing girl. "Mr. Royal made his ch-ch-choice." His voice had lost its nasally edge, but underneath the patois Emma realized that Grimsby had a rather pronounced stutter. Is that why he adopted the strange voice, to force the stutter out of his speech?

"It's true!" the words slipped out as she looked around the room. The story fell into place within her head. "You tried out for a place within Royal's patronage, and when he dismissed you because of the stutter, you probably worked hard to get rid of it, meanwhile you became his assistant so you could treat others just how you felt treated!"

"I am every b-bit as g-g-good as he is!" Grimsby was almost terrified at how close Emma had come to the truth. "I have just-t as much ri-ri-right to ch-ch-choose the best perform-ormers as he does!"

"So pick her!" Henry challenged, pointing through the window at the darkened sound booth, where, obscured by the shadows, Hilary was likely sitting numbly in silence, musing about her destitute future.  
Henry looked straight into Grimsby's eyes and continued, "Give Hilary the chance you never had, and treat her like you want to be treated, not like you were treated."

Grimsby stared back at the young boy for a very long time. At last, he turned back to the sound board and brought up the lights.

Emma gasped, "Where's Hilary?"

Sometime during the conversation, their singer had vanished. The booth was empty.

"We have to find her!" Henry cried.

Grimsby sighed. "If you're right, and she's anything like m-me," he stammered in his normal voice, "I think I might know w-w-where she has gone."


	9. Chapter 9: She Who Holds Her Tongue

_*A/N: Yes, as a matter of fact, I did use a bit of the song from Disney's "Little Mermaid" in this part. I figured it for a nice throwback to the "traditional" fairytale, much like the actual show. -KM_

* * *

**Enchanted Forest**

"Nearly there, your Highness!" Giles whispered to the barrow full of burlap sacks.

He had tucked Ariel into it, and saturated the sacks so that she could at the very least breathe. In this manner he brought her all the way to a small cove enclosed in the hanging branches of a weeping willow.

"We have arrived, princess," he told her, pulling off the bags to expose her face.

"Leave me here," she instructed. "Wait outside."

Giles hesitated. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Ariel nodded, "Go now." She didn't want him to see how terribly desperate she had become.

The minute Giles withdrew, Ariel practically threw herself out of the barrow and to the water's edge. Her gills flared open wide as she gulped the life-giving water.

A raspy cackle caused her to pause.

"What's the matter, little fish?" A wheedling voice asked, "can't get enough?" Rumplestiltskin appeared behind her.

"Please! I c-can't—I c—I c-can't—" She said no more, only showed him the wide swatches of human skin peeling off her mermaid scales.

Rumple shrugged. "That's no problem dearie! There's water right there."

Ariel shook her head, "No—I—I—want—I wa—t-t—stay!"

The dark imp shook his head. "I'm afraid that wasn't part of the bargain, dearie."

Ariel gripped his dirty hand. "Please! I'll make a new bargain! I'll give you anything!"

"Anything? Are you sure? You've already given me your voice."

Ariel shook her head as skin from her neck sloughed off. "Something else!"

Rumplestiltskin shook his hand loose. He stared hard at the dying mermaid who insisted on remaining near the water but not in it. After a moment, his obsession with bargaining overcame his loyalty to bargains already made. "Oh, very well." He snapped. "A new bargain: I will give you another potion—in return for something only you can get me."

The skin on her arms hung in tattered ribbons. Frantic, she heaved, "Name it!"

Rumplestiltskin indulged in a victory jig. He cackled before stating, "Summon Ursula to me."

Ariel gasped so furiously that she had to dunk her head underwater for several moments to recover herself. She pulled her head up and glared at Rumplestiltskin, fire smoldering in her sea-green eyes. "You wretched being!" she seethed. "You would ask me to place the most valuable creature in Undersea, The one in my father's protection, in the hands of the Dark One?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged disarmingly. "You want to be human; I want the cuttlefish."

Ariel withdrew somewhat. "It is not in my power to give."

The imp leaned closer and wagged a finger at her. "But you are the only one with the power to summon it!" Ariel still hesitated, so he prompted her some more. "Hurry, little fish-maid! You will have to dive soon!"

Ariel suddenly picked up her head and a small smile played at the corners of her lips as she said, "I cannot summon it without my gift."

Rumplestiltskin's mouth twitched, and he looked close to furious. "Oh! So that's the way you want to play, is it?" he snarled. "So bold for one so small!"

When she held her ground, he snorted. "Very well, then; since we are making a new deal anyway—" He produced the wand and let the thin ribbon of Ariel's gift escape. Ariel inhaled the threadlike cloud, feeling its power fill her throat like it always had when she used her gift.

Rumplestiltskin nodded to her, so Ariel faced the open sea and sang. She sang the ancient, haunting tune, full of the deepening void of the sea, of mysterious life beyond the comprehension of any living being. She sang the song that would bring Ursula from her deep-sea home into the shallows of the cove.

The water rippled and spread. Suddenly, a dark-purple shape materialized below the surface of the water. Strange, yellow eyes peered up from the mass. Ursula had come.

Rumplestiltskin kept one hand hidden as he danced forward to the water's edge, cutting Ariel off. "Thank you, dearie," he said, handing her the vial. "That will be all." He raised his hand as she wasted no time in downing the potion.

The newly-recovered ex-mermaid had only time to register the glint of something metal in his hand before he sent the object plunging into the unsuspecting squid's head. "Wait! What are you—" Too late! The creature heaved, writhing in pain, then fell still. Ariel could only watch numbly as the Dark One dragged the limp mass of slimy fish-flesh onto the shore by a floppy tentacle. She found her voice, only to mumble, "You killed it!"

Rumplestiltskin sliced in again, fishing around inside the body for something. "What is that to you?" he retorted.

Ariel attempted to use his own warped logic against him. "That was not part of our bargain!" she cried.

He found what he wanted—two soft, discolored sacs swollen with ink, and tucked them away safely somewhere within his costume. "No?" he turned his golden gaze upon her with a grin. "I do believe the conditions of our bargain expired. I got the cuttlefish, you got your legs back."

Rumple took a flourishing bow and prepared to make his exit. But not before one last jab. "Oh, by the way, it's the same batch of potion, so the same time limit still applies. That would make this, what, the third day? Good luck getting your prince back by dawn."

Ariel felt like someone had driven a knife through her as she caught a glimpse of the dying sun outside the willow branches. "Dawn..." Memories of the last evening's events came flooding back. "The carnival!"

Ariel found it much easier to walk this time around as she raced from the cover of the willow trees. "Giles!"

He approached from the edge of the grove at her call. He gazed at her in awe. "Lady Ariel? You're looking much better." The two of them started off down the path toward the seaside carnival. Giles kept glancing at the rejuvenated young lady by his side. At last, he admitted, "I hardly recognized your voice." His eyes bespoke his guess at what could have transpired to turn the gasping, peeling, stuttering half-creature into this resplendent princess with the angelic voice.

Ariel only had thoughts for one person. "Let's hope the Prince fares better." He must hear her voice, for only then would Princess Melinda's hold over him be broken. "Where is he?"

Giles gazed ahead in despair as they neared the carnival with its bright lights and colors as all of Overcliff gathered to enjoy the festive night. "I cannot tell, Milady. Her Majesty the Princess has lost everyone in this crowd and noise, which I think was her intention." They attempted a foray into the crowd, but Ariel found the mass of faces and bodies confusing to her, and the movement made her unsteady on her feet. She clung to Giles' arm.

"Giles, is there a hill nearby?" she asked.

He skirted a carousing pair and nearly tripped over a punch-drunk old man passed out on the ground. "A hill, ma'am?" he repeated dully.

Ariel started scanning the terrain herself. "Yes! I need to sing for Eric!" she replied absently.

Giles was willing to help her—but what could the two have possibly to do with each other. "As I told you before, I don't think—"

"There!" Ariel pointed to a small knoll just across the way, on the very edge of the party field. "Just get me there!"

Meanwhile, Melinda was having the time of her life with Eric. Who could have guessed that a simple fishmonger's daughter could be taken for a princess and captivate the Prince so! It started with an unexpected visit from Queen Regina herself, and then—before one could say _I'm a codfish!_—she was dressing in fine clothes and eating rich foods and cavorting with the prince! Melinda silently thanked the fates that the Queen had chosen her, while at the same time she chafed at the strange requirements Regina placed on her: "Flatter the prince, but don't behave as if you know you are his beloved. Cling to him too much, and everyone will know you are a charlatan. You're a princess now; behave like everything is yours for the taking, but under no circumstances should you ever dream of actually taking it!"

Duly noting the queen's advice, Melinda laid her golden head lovingly upon the Prince's shoulder and gushed, "Ah! How wonderful you are! I think whoever you choose for your bride will be lucky to have the strongest, kindest, most generous man in the whole world!" They passed by several enticing games and shows. They had been wandering the carnival for hours, but she dare not let the fatigue show.

The Prince seemed to have lost interest in the carnival by now. Suddenly, he looked at Melinda with a strange expression on his face. She drew back somewhat; did he suspect that she was not who she claimed to be?

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

The question was so wholly unexpected that it took several seconds for Melinda to comprehend what he asked. "Hear what?" She responded tentatively.

He was adamant now; there was something stirring him like nothing else had all evening. "Listen! That music!" He cried.

Melinda couldn't hear a thing over the clamor of multiple minstrel bands playing different tunes at different times, and the chatter of the people. She tried to hold onto his arm. "Eric I don't know—"

"Ariel." As the tones washed over his ear, Eric looked at Melinda and suddenly saw her for what she truly was: a common maiden. The ravishing beauty melted away, and left a plain girl in its place, clinging to his arm and staring at him with hungry eyes. He grimaced.

Meanwhile, something about the ethereal word he spoke, coupled with the sudden revulsion he suddenly displayed, sent Melinda into a panic. "Who?" She squeaked.

Eric dropped Melinda's arm for the first time that day and actually began walking away from her. He called over his shoulder,

"Her name is Ariel, and I've got to find her!"

Ariel closed her eyes as she sang, shutting out the world. There was no one but her and Eric; no more conniving father, no more simpering princess, no more false Queen pretending to be her friend and then drugging her to try and remove all hope of her ever achieving her dream. All that melted away and disappeared as she sang,

"_What would I give to live where you are,_

_what would I pay to stay here beside you?_

_What would I do to see you, smiling at me?"_

She gasped as suddenly his arms were around her, and he was holding her close, whispering over and over in her ear, "Ariel… Ariel…. Ariel!"

"Yes," she whispered back, "My name is Ariel, and I love you more than life itself." It felt so freeing to be able to tell him how she felt! "Eric, you have to listen to me; Queen Regina has been working against your father, she wants to take the Channel away, and she's using Melinda to distract you while she pressures your father into giving in to her nefarious demands!"

Eric pulled away in shock at the news. "What?" he gasped.

"Well, well, well!" A cold female voice rang out.

Ariel turned in alarm as Queen Regina—fully domineering in her dark, majestic garments—approached them, smiling. "The little songbird has her chirp back! Isn't that wonderful!" She raised a hand in mock embarrassment, "Oh, excuse me, I meant _fish_, not bird! Tell us, little fish-girl!" She gestured to the gathering crowd. "Tell all of these worthy citizens of Overcliff all about the secret plans of the Evil Queen!" She laughed, and a few of the villagers laughed with her.

"It's true!" Ariel announced boldly, standing up to the cruel mistress. "You want to be able to control Overcliff, and the only way to do that is by taking the Armada for yourself! You want to keep the island isolated, keep everyone on land, keep them from the water forever!"

"And what's so wrong about that?" Regina spat back. "It's not like anyone here can live in the water!" This produced a laugh, but Regina still stared at Ariel. "Or can they? Your Highness," she turned to the prince, "You seem to love this girl Ariel, but do you know where she comes from? Who is her parentage? What is her family?"

"She is of noble blood!"

The crowd gasped and parted a ways as Giles moved to the forefront. He came to stand beside the embracing couple as he continued.

"Lady Ariel is no less royal than the Prince himself! She is a princess, the daughter of a king!"

Regina sneered, "The king of what? King of the guppies! Ruler of seaweed! Did you know, little prince, that the girl you hold in your arms has to take a potion to be as she is?"

Eric looked at the terrified girl in his arms. "What?"

"Eric!" Ariel spoke desperately, "Please believe me! I did it out of love for you!"

"Hmm, yes," Regina continued, "just like you used your magic voice to enchant him to find you just now!"

"I—" Ariel fought to find the words to defend herself; how could the cruel queen make her ability out to be some dark, paltry trick, like the Queen's own magic. "No! That wasn't—I didn't—" she tried to explain to Eric, "I called to you because I loved you!"

But by now Eric was slowly pulling away from her. "That is true! I had no idea you were here, or what your real name was—_until I heard you sing!_"

"Let me show you who she really is!" Regina leapt forward and tossed a jug of water over Ariel's head. Her skin began to peel away as it did before. The effect was so gruesome that people screamed in terror and backed away.

"This is your precious Ariel!" Regina snarled, "_This _is the girl who stole your senses from the moment you first met—she's nothing but a _mermaid!_"

"How dare you!" Giles lunged forward. "This is the girl who saved the Prince's life when his boat capsized in a storm!"

"Yes, and isn't that convenient!" Regina turned on the valet. "She saves the life of a human, and then becomes like him to try and wheedle her way into a union with the prince, so that the Merpeople can overrun and enslave us all!"

"Lies!" Ariel screamed, but no one would even look at her, with her skin hanging in tatters around her.

Regina continued, "Yes! She would marry the prince, and on their wedding night, kill him and become ruler herself! Her kind would rise up from the waters and isolate this island, and with a mermaid as its ruler, you would become their slaves! The sea would become your prison, and you will be forced to obey them or they will flood your land!"

"No!" Ariel was having trouble breathing again. Her gills stretched open at the presence of water in her throat. She gulped furiously to try and maintain a normal speaking voice. "That is not what we—what _they_—want! I want to be human! I don't ever want to go back there!"

"Back where you belong?" Regina hissed. "Back to your kind? You pathetic little flounder! We don't want you here!"

Ariel looked at Eric, but he had drawn far enough away from her for Melinda to grab his arm again. His eyes remained downcast and vacant.

"You have no business being human," Regina declared imperiously. "Go away! Leave us to our own lives. Return to the sea, _where you belong_."

Tears slipped down Ariel's face; she felt the sensation for the first time.

"Eric?" she begged.

He would not respond. Desolate, Ariel ran from the crowd—who gave her wide clearance to pass through them—and away from the carnival, down to the sea.

There was a moment of uneasy tension, then the crowd dispersed back to its diversions. Melinda gave the arm she clutched a little squeeze.

"Well," she sighed, "I am so glad that little hussy is gone! Now that's over, Your—" She stopped.

Giles and _not _Eric grinned down at her. Melinda pulled a face and pushed the serving-man away from her. "Eww!" she cried. "Where's Eric? Where did he go? Eric!" She ran around the carnival as the swelling noise drowned out her squeaky voice. "_ERIC!"_

The prince had vanished.


	10. Chapter 10: The Mermaid's Song

**Storybrooke**

Grimsby led them back toward the front of the theater and out the front door. As he predicted, they found Hilary huddled by the entrance, still sobbing miserably.

"Hilary!" Henry sat down by her side and grasped her hand to comfort her. "You have to go back there!"

"I can't do it!" Hilary whimpered, "It's too much! There's no way Mr. Royal will like me! There's no way we can get the money to stay! Who am I kidding? I'm not famous, I'm just a failure!"

"Yes there is," Henry persisted. "You can do it, and you will! Don't give up now! You've got to keep hope!"

Hilary finally raised her head. She looked at Henry, and then her eyes moved to Emma—and the person standing behind her. She blinked in surprise as Sebastian himself moved forward and bent down to speak with her.

"I…I know how you feel," he admitted. "I know what nerves will do under pressure. I've been through it, myself—but that doesn't mean I should treat others the same way." His expression was genuinely humble as he told her, "I am sorry for being so short with you, and for writing you off. Everyone deserves a chance to be great if they have what it takes," He looked straight into Hilary's eyes, "and from what I've heard from your friends here, I think you do. Miss Anderson," he was formal again, but by no means stiff, "Please return to the sound booth and let us hear you sing." He offered his hand to help her up.

Hilary stood and wiped her eyes. "I'm ready," she said as she gathered her courage.

In the sound booth, the old doubts began to creep back in. This time, though, Hilary knew that the people watching her were there to support her, not judge her.

"Take your time," Grimsby encouraged.

Hilary took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and felt the sense of longing—and of _be_longing—welling up inside her. Suddenly she knew exactly what to sing.

_"Heart beats fast_

_Colors and promises_

_How do be brave_

_How can I love when I'm afraid_

_To fall_

_But watching you stand alone_

_All of my doubt_

_Suddenly goes away somehow_

_One step closer…."_

Emma watched the sheer peace and joy radiate from Hilary's features as she sang. The voice coming over the microphone was truly angelic. There was no way anyone who heard it could remain unaffected.

Her quick ears caught a footfall behind her. Emma turned around to see a tall man with dark hair stepping quietly into the mixing booth. He took one look at Hilary and stood, transfixed by her voice.

_"I have died everyday_

_waiting for you_

_Darling, don't be afraid_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more…"_

Grimsby turned around and noticed the newcomer.

"Mr. Royal!" he breathed.

Rick Royal couldn't take his eyes off the girl in the sound booth.

"Who is she?" he asked his assistant.

"Her name is Hilary Anderson," Grimsby explained. "She wants to book the theater for a concert."

"A _benefit _concert," Henry added, "We're going to invite the whole town."

Rick glanced at Emma and a smile played around his lips as he looked down at the eager young boy. "I take it you would be her agent, then?" he teased.

Henry blushed at the sudden attention from such an imposing man. "Kind of…" he muttered.

"Well, then," Rick said, "I will need to make your acquaintance, and maybe you can tell me all about this marvelous musician you've brought to me. Sebastian," he pointed to his assistant. "Give Hilary Anderson our next available date. Let her have the studio for the whole day, and the stage for as long as she wants in the evening."

"Yes, sir!" Grimsby responded immediately, as Emma, Henry, and Rick left the room to discuss the concert.

The concert happened three days later. Nearly everyone in Storybrooke had heard of the concert and showed up to support the Andersons, Marine Garage, and the local fishermen of the town.

Hilary looked resplendent in an aquamarine gown, with her red hair curled and styled. She positively glowed as she sang for the crowd.

_"Time stands still_

_Beauty in all she is_

_I will be brave_

_I will not let anything_

_Take away_

_What's standing in front of me_

_Every breath,_

_Every hour has come to this:_

_One step closer_

_I have died everyday_

_Waiting for you_

_Darling, don't be afraid,_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more_

_And all along I believed_

_I would find you_

_Time has brought your heart to me_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I'll love you for a thousand more!"_

When she finished, Rick Royal joined her onstage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here tonight," he announced, "I know that many of you might not know the Andersons or their situation, but we all know the Marine Garage—" many cheered, "and how important it is for us to stick together and support each other when hard times come. Thank you; on behalf of the Anderson family and Hilary, who so graciously shared her wonderful talent with us—" he had to pause and wait for the applause to die down before he could continue, "—it is my pleasure to announce that your generosity has made several things possible tonight. First, I have just gotten off the phone with the commissioner, and with part of the money donated tonight, he was able to procure for the local fishermen of Storybrooke a legal agreement making the waters of Storybrooke private to the residents of Storybrooke, to fish as you please and to keep the commercial trawlers out!" Everyone cheered at this.

"Secondly," Rick waved his hand to quiet everyone as he continued, "It pleases me to inform you that your donations tonight have added up to enough money to send our very own rising star," he gestured to Hilary, "to Julliard School of Music in New York City!"

Everyone whistled and clapped as Hilary grinned as if she would never stop. Emma mused that if she were any happier, she would fly away.

"I have one more announcement that I have saved as a surprise for Hilary," Rick said, and Emma felt a small jerk of alarm, which relaxed at his next words. "Miss Anderson," Rick continued over the microphone, "Castle Records would like to produce your first album, so that the world can share in your talent. What do you say to that?" He extended the microphone toward her.

Hilary looked like someone could knock her over with a feather. She was absolutely blown away by this proposition.

"I accept!" she squeaked.

Rick smiled at her, "We'll start recording right away!" he waved to the crowd. "Thank you everybody, and goodnight!"

The crowd cheered again. Emma sat back, satisfied. Henry was grinning, too. Things were looking up for the Anderson family, and for Storybrooke. Maybe, just maybe, the real world might hold some "happily-ever-after," after all.


	11. Chapter 11: Part of Your World

**Enchanted Forest**

Ariel returned to the cove hidden by the willow and collapsed on the water's edge. Her vision blurred with the tears as she let her feet dangle in the water. When she sniffed and wiped them away, she saw that already her legs had fused back together, and her feet had elongated into a tail-fin.

It was over; she couldn't breathe like a human anymore, she couldn't walk like a human—she was a mermaid again. Who was she fooling, trying to be something she wasn't? Regina had won, and soon she would be forced to watch (maybe even captured to be used against her own people) as her father's kingdom fell under the ruthless Queen's rule. She had gotten her three days with Eric, as a human, but perhaps the magical life of love and respect was not something she could ever aspire to. Ariel clutched her arms to her chest and sobbed silently and breathlessly as she felt the webs re-forming between her fingers.

"Ariel! Ariel!"

Natural instinct almost made Ariel want to dive into the water at the sound of a human voice calling her name. At the same time, her heart knew it was Eric calling for her, and hope restrained her instinct. Before she could decide what to do, he burst through the willow branches and stood beside her.

"Ariel! I've been looking every—" his voice stopped as he saw the sparkling fish tail hanging in the water. Ariel saw fear in his eyes, and wonder—and confusion.

"It's—It's—your—you have a—" He looked at her. "It's true!" he gasped.

Ariel scooped some water in her hand and into her mouth, letting it trickle down her throat so she could speak.

"I have only ever told you the truth, Highness," she said. "I am a mer-princess, and I gave up my life at the palace and my chance at great social standing under the sea in order to find the man I saved and seek after his love." She took another drink. "The Queen's tale was all lies. I never wanted to take the throne, and the merfolk of Undersea are not interested in asserting themselves over the humans of Overcliff. It is she who wants to impose dominion over us. So long as the Channel remains in the hands of your kingdom, life will continue as it always has. Please believe me!"

"Ariel," Eric smiled and embraced her. He kissed her gently on her scaly cheek. "I never stopped believing you," he affirmed.

Ariel's head was spinning, and not merely because she could not breathe air. She took a few large gulps of water. "But what about Princess Melinda? You seemed quite taken with her!"

Eric sat on the bank next to her. "I was, at first, but it was none of my doing; it was the enchantment of the wicked Queen."

Ariel shook her head, "What changed?"

Eric smiled, "Giles came and told me about you. The more he talked, the less of a hold the enchantment had on me. The more I thought about you, the less I listened to her flattery and lies. Ariel," he turned her face toward him with a gentle hand on her chin, "I have thought about you constantly over the last few days."

Ariel still pulled away, not wholly convinced. "But just now at the carnival, you said—"

"Only what the Queen wanted to hear so that I could get away and find you," Eric finished. "Giles met me just after I first heard your voice and reminded me not to be fooled by the false princess. I saw her today for the fraud she really was, and I pretended to fall for her just until I could get away. Ariel—" he saw her slipping into the water and caught her in his arms. "Please don't go away!" he begged.

"I have to!" Ariel replied, "I can't survive as a mermaid; it's too late for me now."

Eric wouldn't let go. "But Ariel," he protested vehemently, "I love you!" Ariel looked up in surprise, and Eric suddenly leaned in and kissed her deeply. Ariel felt a thrill—tiny at first, but growing quickly—start from her rapidly-beating heart and spread all the way to her head and down her legs to her tail. She wiggled her toes happily as the kiss of true love lingered—

Her toes! Ariel pulled back and looked down at her lap, where she had just been watching her tail re-form. It was now legs again, real human legs, with skin and knees and toes and everything. Ariel took a deep breath of real air, through her nose, without feeling any sort of gill movement at all. She saw Eric smiling at her with love in his eyes, and she laughed for the sheer joy of it. She was human, once and for all! Eric stood and lifted her to her feet, and the two kissed again.

The next morning, Melinda confessed to her charade, and she was dismissed from the castle of Overcliff. King Theodore called off any sort of forfeiture of the Channel to Queen Regina, but in an effort to maintain a spirit of goodwill, he invited Regina to remain at Overcliff for the wedding of Ariel and Eric in one week's time.

The black-hearted queen sneered openly at the invitation. "I certainly will not stay and watch a royal prince marry a fish-girl!" she said. "You'll regret this, your Majesty! And _you_," she pointed to Ariel standing safely in Eric's arms. "You will _never _marry him! I'll make you wish you had never given up your tail!" With that, she left.

Regina's words struck Ariel to the core. Even with the wedding preparations, she could find little to be happy about. Eric and Giles tried everything they could to cheer the sad princess.

"Ariel," Eric finally confronted her when they were alone one evening, "don't you love me? Does my own love mean nothing to you?"

Ariel sighed and crossed the room. She sat at the vanity and began combing her hair. "I do love you, Eric," she confirmed, "and I know that you love me. I just cannot forget what the Queen said. It haunts my dreams."

Eric smiled, "The same way you used to haunt mine?" he joked. Ariel didn't laugh. Eric stood at a respectful distance as he tried to reason with her. "She's gone, Ariel. We're getting _married_ in three days—"

"Are we?" Ariel stood and faced the prince. "The Queen said we will never marry. What do you think she intends to do to stop it?"

Eric shook his head. "She can do nothing—"

"Eric…" Ariel suddenly interrupted him with a strange expression on her face. "What's that?"

She seemed to be staring at something behind him. Eric turned around. There was a window behind him, looking out over the Channel, but he saw nothing amiss, save some dark clouds on the horizon. He reassured her, "It's just a storm."

Ariel shook her head as terror filled her features. "My father is king of the sea; I know storms, and that is no storm!" Fear paralyzed her body. She could only stare as the cloud billowed and grew and seemed to blacken all that was happy and good in the world.

"Eric!" Ariel cried, "Get away from the window!"

The prince did not understand her fear. "I'll be fine; it will pass soon, you'll see."

"No!" Ariel could not deny the dread she felt as the cloud grew closer and closer. "Eric," she reached toward him, "Grab my hand!"

Eric grinned patronizingly at her, "Ariel," he walked toward her, "you're being silly—"

Too late! The cloud was upon him, and it swept right in through the window and seemed to grab the prince. Ariel lunged, but before their fingers touched, Eric was gone, swallowed by the cloud.

Ariel felt the sheer evil of its power as the black cloud enveloped her too. She screamed.

_"NOOOOO!"_

The black curse fell. The Queen had won.


End file.
